Hope
by demonkatgurl17
Summary: Derek suffers a blow at the hands of the Alpha Pack. 7th and final part of the "Jagged" series.


Late that night after the Argent-Hale meeting, when the sky was beginning to brighten with the dawn, they found Jennifer, and all Stiles could think was that she hadn't deserved this.

For every jealous, squirming, uncomfortable feeling he'd had because of her, he'd never wished any real harm to her, had never fantasized of her body being damaged and torn asunder and left scattered across the cold, unforgiving ground, bones broken and flesh torn apart, lips still spread wide in a scream that had fallen on deaf ears.

To be fair though, imaginative as he was, Stiles would have been hard put to imagine this level of horror. He supposed that was why none of it felt real when he and Scott came upon Jenifer's pitiful remains on the lacrosse field.

Having overheard the news on a police scanner Stiles had, they were quick to rush to the scene and get a brief glimpse of the blood-soaked field before Sheriff Stilinski had dragged them off and ushered them home, shouting at them about curfews and rules and therapy bills.

Stiles sat with Scott in his Jeep, watching numbly as emergency vehicles and personnel moved about the grounds (something that had occurred far too many times at Beacon Hills High).

"How are we gonna tell Derek?" Scott asked as a body bag was wheeled on a stretcher to the ambulance parked nearby. Animal attack: that's what Scott had overheard the police call it. With the slashes and bite marks, it was an honest mistake. Werewolf killing was never a top law enforcement assumption.

"I don't think we need to tell him," Stiles said, his gaze fixed on a lone figure standing far out across the school grounds by the bordering tree line.

A few seconds later, the figure was gone.

It was like a nightmare, one that you become aware that you're in and yet it continues to play out. But no matter how many times Stiles pinched himself, he couldn't shake himself of the fact that Jennifer was lying dead in a bag, slashed to bits by the very people his friends and allies were supposed to go after later that same day.

Could it be a coincidence? Did the Alpha Pack know what they were going to do and had punished them for it?

Well, at least Derek was being punished, since he was doing everything except bow to Deucalion's will.

This was a move they had all seen coming, but somehow Stiles had always thought it would be either him or Scott's mom the Alpha Pack came after. Despite Jennifer's position next to Derek, she had always felt like an outsider to Stiles and thus somehow apart from the danger, but now it was clearer than ever that Deucalion was through with waiting.

And so was Stiles.

Resolve strengthening within him, Stiles brought Roscoe into gear, dropping Scott off at home before driving to a certain veterinarian, who took one look at Stiles's face before letting him in without a word.

The metallic squall of the elevator ground against Stiles's nerves, spiking his anxiety higher as Stiles was carried closer and closer to Derek's loft.

It had been hours since Jennifer's body had been found. Hours filled with silence and uncertainty. Stiles was no stranger to death and loss and he knew Derek was the same, but he had no frame of reference for how to deal with this. For him, Jennifer had been a rival and an unwelcome party. For Derek, she had been a friend, a lover, a partner of some sort and that kind of loss was foreign to Stiles. Should he have called? Stayed away? Was the plan the group had come up with last night still on or were they postponing it on account of bereavement? Were they to do it without Derek?

Stiles had so many questions going through his mind, but at the top of them all was: Is Derek ok?

The elevator came to a noisy halt, doors opening, and Stiles hesitantly walked into the drafty open room, keeping his approach slow and quiet as made his way to Derek's bed, where the alpha sat on the edge of it, facing away, looking out through the large dirty windows.

Stopping a few meters away from the bed, Stiles waited for any sign of hostility or even just the barest trace of recognition from Derek, but nothing came and worry twisted in Stiles's gut, fearing that this was one loss too many and the Alpha Pack had finally won.

Anger surged through him at that thought.

 _No_.

This was _not_ going to be the end of it. He would not back down and let the Alpha Pack win. They had taken too much already and Stiles would be _damned_ if he let them take Derek Hale as well.

Shunting aside his own mixed bag of grief, pain, and awkwardness, Stiles circled the bed and sat down beside Derek, not daring to look at him quite yet, but sat with him in solidarity and stared out the window at the bleak surroundings of the loft's building. If Stiles had thought it through, he would have taken another dose of Adderall before coming here, but it was too little too late, so he was left trying his best to sit still even though it went against his very nature.

If the heavy silence didn't kill him, Stiles was sure being still for much longer would do the trick.

"I lied to her."

That startled Stiles into finally looking over at Derek, who was still staring blankly at the window, probably at nothing in particular, just forward and out, trapped within himself at the same time.

"What- " Stiles choked out and then cleared his throat, starting again. "What did you lie about?"

Derek was silent for a time, but Stiles waited, knowing this couldn't be forced or rushed.

"I told her I loved her."

That…was unexpected and Stiles floundered, hating how some dark jealous part of him seized onto that like some sick kind of victory when the woman had been viciously ripped apart for no other reason than as a twisted object lesson. There was no victory here at all.

"Did…did you think it was the right thing to say?" Stiles asked. He genuinely wanted to know. In the end, he wasn't sure it really mattered when grief was all that was left, but it felt like an important thing to ask.

"I….I think so."

"Then that's all that matters. And maybe part of you did. That doesn't make it a lie. Or something to be ashamed of."

"But I got her killed. I let her get close and they _killed_ her-"

"And _that's_ on _them_ ," Stiles interrupted, letting some of the anger find an outlet in blaming someone. "You have a right to live your own life and love who you want. Deucalion and his pack are rabid mongrels and _they_ are responsible for this, not you. _They_ are the ones who need to be put down and made to _pay_. Not _you_."

Derek finally turned to look at him, tears welling up in his eyes, and Stiles kept going, letting the voice inside him that called for vengeance get in stride. They had hurt Derek. Stiles would make them _pay_. "Don't let them win, Derek. They don't deserve it." Taking a huge risk and a leap of faith, Stiles reached over and took Derek's hand in his, squeezing it tight, trying to _will_ the fight inside the alpha into life. " _Please._ "

"Deucalion has pack unity and an emissary," Derek whispered hoarsely, his tears still refusing to fall.

"So do you." Stiles turned to the window, jaw in a stubborn set as he squared his shoulders.

He thought of all the people he cared about who could fall victim to the evils that had come to Beacon Hills. He thought of everything that he could lose if this one man was left to stand alone against all that was to come and decided that, no, Derek would _not_ be alone in this. Both of them were in pain for different reasons, but together they were stronger, their jagged edges catching, locking together into something formidable that the Alpha Pack would _regret_ crossing paths with.

Stiles could be strong for Derek.

Stiles could give him _hope_.

Something stirred within Stiles - primal, ancient, moved by his will to _fight_ \- and his very being nearly vibrated with the power of it.

Derek stared at him, shocked into silence by Stiles's unexpected pledge and the power behind it.

Then he squeezed Stiles's hand almost to the point of pain and the two gazed out into the bleak world together, unified in will.

They would fight.

And they would win.


End file.
